


Talent Show

by 8ethespider8itch



Series: The Mixtape [1]
Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Inspired by Music, Talent Shows, the replacements - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 22:52:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10796400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8ethespider8itch/pseuds/8ethespider8itch
Summary: "Ain't much to look at so, close your eyes, here we go, playing at the talent show."Marceline's first performance and her first crush happen all at once. The origin story of two girls.





	1. Chapter 1

Springtime means many things. The birds sing in the trees, the sun cracks open the clouds to peer down on the earth, the ice turns to mud. And in middle school, the talent show posters are plastered all along the halls.  
  
At 14, Marceline had never played her bass outside of lessons. She hadn't sung outside her church choir. And she hadn't thought anything of it. But on April third, Keila clapped her on the shoulder and said firmly, "This year, we're doing the talent show."  
  
Marceline laughed at her. "April Fools is over, Keila. What would you and I do in a talent show?"  
  
Keira was determined. "We'll be a band!" she said fiercely. "You play bass. And you sing, too!"  
  
"Upright bass," Marceline corrected, exasparated.  
  
"More like uptight bass." Keila grimmaced. "Anyway, I know you play both, don't lie to me. And there's this pianist in my French class who said he could play keyboard for us. We just need a drummer."  
  
"Who's we?" Marceline grumbled, but it was futile to argue with Keila. When she got an idea in her head, it was best to just ride out the wave. Besides, there was a boy who played drums for her church choir that she knew she could ask to join them.  
..................  
  
It went as Keila planned, the way most things did. They rehearsed in Marceline's garage on Saturday afternoons and Tuesday's after school. Marceline was surprised at how well things seemed to be going. The boy from Marceline's church, Bongo, was a drummer who had been in a band at his old school. Keila's friend Guy had stacks of his mom's old records in his basement, and they combed though them to find the perfect track to cover. That was their only argument, really.  
  
"Bongo, for the last time. We are not. Covering. Nirvana." Keila stamped her foot angrily for emphasis.  
  
"Why not?" he asked in a level tone. "Smells Like Teen Spirit is a garage band staple."  
  
"What is Kurt even saying?" she asked, throwing her hands up in the air. "We can't perform what we don't understand!"  
  
"I'm scared of my libido?" Marceline suggested with a smirk.  
  
"I don't know what that means, but Marceline is  making her "dirty words" face. Not happening."  
  
As they packed up their instruments, Guy whispered something in Keila's ear. "No Nirvana!" she shouted suddenly, cheeks red. "Not in front of my mom!"  
  
"We'll think of something," Marceline reassured her, flipping through a stack of albums and trying not to laugh.  
.............  
  
Marceline spent all her time thinking about the talent show. She practiced daily, struggling to perfect her part in the four or five tracks they'd narrowed the list to.  
  
After school, Marceline stood in the bathroom with a bag of borrowed makeup. She dipped her fingers in a tub of hair wax and streaked it through her hair, pushing it up at the roots until the front resembled Elvis's iconic pompador.  
  
Bonnie walked in hurriedly, brushing her hair behind her ears and checking her teeth. "Hey Marceline, what's up?"  
  
Marceline's cheeks colored. "Hey Bonnibel. I'm just getting ready for the talent show." She shuffled her feet a bit nervously, looking at the hand- painted records and stars on the toes of her scuffed Vans. "You should totally come. It's just over at the community center, and I think my band is really going to rock it."  
  
"You have a band?" Bonnibel asked, pausing to look over at her.  
  
Marceline shrugged. "Sure. We play some covers and some originals." Her fingers crossed behind her back. "This is our first gig though," she confessed.   
  
Bonnibel looked impressed. "I'm supposed to be at a Student Council meeting..." she trailed off.  
  
Marceline smirked. "There are fifty kids on Student Council, do you really think they'll noticed if you miss one meeting? No ine notice when I quit."  
  
"I did! I always enjoyed your input. And your weird commentary." Bonnibel pulled a bejeweled phone from her purse and texted someone. "I suppose someone SHOULD represent the Student Council at the talent show. I'd be doing them a favor."  
  
Marceline laughed. "I have an Uber about five minutes out. Why don't you tag along?"


	2. Chapter 2

Marceline sat in the back of the Uber, her bass settled awkwardly between her knees. She hummed absently, tapping her fingers on her knees as she watched the scenery flash by. Bonnibel sat beside her, fingers flying across her phone keyboard.  
  
"The student counsel thanked me for 'rectifying an oversight' and going to the talent show with you." She rolled her eyes and did finger quotes. "Can we be anymore pretentious here?"   
  
Marceline laughed. "That's pretty obnoxious. Are they cool with you missing the meeting?"  
  
"No," Bonnibel answered breezily. "But I didn't ask them. I told them." She shoved her phone in her pocket and grabbed her handbag as the driver pulled off to the side of the road by the community center. "Need a hand with that case?" She reached out a hand, resting it lightly on the back of Marceline's. Marceline turned beet red.  
  
"Nah, I got it, thanks." She hefted her bass and climbed out of the car. "You can come back stage with me. I'll tell everyone you're our manager."   
  
"You don't have to, really-" Bonnibel protested, but Marceline was insistent.  
  
"I could use support anyway." She grabbed Bonnibel's arm and guided her to the side stage doors at the back of the building. Just inside, Keila was staring at her music, muttering under her breath.   
  
"Tell me you know this from memory," Marceline groaned. "Nothing is less punk rock than music stands."   
  
"Of course I know it. I'm just reviewing." Keila looked Bonnibel up and down. "Didn't I say no groupies back stage?"  
  
"She's cool, Keila. Just here for the music. And to flirt with the girls lip-synching CHVRCHES." She nodded toward the two blonde girls leaning on the back wall sharing earbuds. Bonnibel gasped and elbowed her, hard. Marceline winced."You feeling ok?" she asked Keila, changing the subject. She set her case down and began unloading, moving purposely out of Bonnibel's elbow range.  
  
"Totally. I just took my meds, I'll hyperfocus through the set. Feeling good. I tuned twice, checked both of our pick bags, did a sound check, and now I'm triple-checking my chords." She looked it too, like her concentrated stare could burn right through you. Bonnibel cocked her head at her curiously. "Don't look at me like that, I took my Adderal, not speed."  
  
Bonnibel snorted. "Medically, it's almost the same as meth. But it does the job, right?"   
  
"Princess, what do you know about meth?" Marceline asked.  
  
"Drugs are chemical, Marceline. I know my chemistry." Her arms were folded, but she didn't seem perturbed, just teasing.  
  
Marceline realized suddenly that she was sweating. Bongo was tapping his fingers at a rapid pace. Guy appeared to be spacing out, but he was pale and clammy. "This may be the biggest thing I've ever done," Marceline realized aloud, voice soft with wonder and anxiety.  
  
"You gave a speech to the school board on the importance of the middle school librarian's position like. Last week. You singlehandedly saved her job. How is this big to you?" Bonnibel looked skeptical.   
  
"Whatever. This feels bigger." Marceline held her head in both hands.  
  
Keila put a hand on Marceline's shoulder. "We go on next."   
  
"I'm going to find a seat. Break a leg!" Bonnibel blew a dramatic kiss, laughed, and walked down the narrow corridor that lead to the auditorium seating. The act onstage, a group of boys doing basketball tricks, was just finishing up to wild applause. Marceline's cheeks were on fire now. She sucked in a deep breath to calm herself and picked up her bass to follow Guy, who had just ducked past the curtain.  
  
Out onstage, the lights were blazing hot and bright. She blinked a few times, trying to adjust. Bongo had settled in behind the school's drum kit. Guy was unfolding his excessively large electric keyboard and plugging it into the power strip. Keila looked comfortable and confident, looking out into the crowd in a blasé manner. Marceline gulped and walked up to the microphone. She cleared her throat, and gripped the mic, eyes scanning the crowd wildly for a familiar face. She couldn't find Bonnibel. "Um, hi." She winced at the echo of her voice, and the light feedback. "I'm Marceline, and uh. We're the Scream Queens. We're going to perform a cover for you tonight. So uh. Yeah. This is Talent Show." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bonnibel slipping into a seat in the front row. Her heart leapt as Bongo counted off behind her. She grasped the mic, closed her eyes, and let her lips part. 

"In my waxed up hair and my painted shoes  
Got an offer that you might refuse   
Tonight, tonight, we're gonna take a stab   
Come on along, we'll grab a cab,

We ain't much to look at so  
Close your eyes, here we go  
We're playin' at the talent show 

Someone whooped loudly at "ain't much to look at" and Marceline felt something in her gut warm. She looked out into the crowd with a new confidence and continued, one foot tapping as her bass twanged.

  
"Playin' at the talent show  
Come on along, here we go   
Playin' at the talent show  
Check us out, here we go  
Playin' at the talent show

Well we got our guitars and we got thumb picks  
And we go on after some lip-synch chicks..."

She winked dramatically at a blonde girl peeking from the wings. 

  
"We're feelin' good from the pills we took  
Oh, baby, don't gimme that look-

We ain't much to look at so  
Close your eyes, here we go   
We're playin' at the talent show   
Playin' at the talent show   
Come on along, here we go   
Playin' at the talent show  
Hop a ride, here we go   
Playin' at the talent show..."

The audience looked on raptly. Marceline was shocked. She had expected lukewarm applause at best, and a lifetime of bullying at worst.

"Well it's the biggest thing in my life I guess  
Look at us all, we're nervous wrecks  
Hey, we go on next..."

She looked around in mock collaboration with her band members, who mimed anxiety for a moment, wiping sweat from their brows and pretending to be afraid, then snapped back to playing, Marceline began to chant softly, with feeling and crescendo.

"Talent show   
Talent show  
Playin' at the talent show  
Playin' at the talent show 

Wish us luck if you can't go-" Finger guns at Bonnibel here- "Playin' at the talent show,  
An empty seat in the front row,  
We might even win this time, guys, you never know

She shrugged, arms wide, in a "what-the-fuck" manner, grinning widely. "It's too late to turn back, here we go..." Her voice on the note long and sweet until the applause swelled around her. She took a deep, sweeping bow, letting her ponytail swing forward and brush the floor. She straightened, blew a sardonic kiss to the audience, and walked off, blood buzzing wildly in her veins. As soon as they stepped backstage, she burst out laughing.

"That. Was. Awesome!" She shouted, grabbing Keila by the shoulders. 

"Yes it was, you ridiculous dork!" Keila grabbed her back, and they hugged, nearly knocking instruments together. "Who was that girl hamming it up for the audience? I don't know her!" 

"I don't know, I don't know, it just happened! Was I ok?" Her cheeks were red, and she rubbed the back of her neck.

"Ok? You were fantastic!" That was Bonnibel, who was running down the corridor to meet them backstage. "I had no idea you had that in you, that was incredible!" She was talking to all of them, probably, but Marceline felt like they were suddenly alone together. "I'm so sorry I wasn't in my seat, I ran to the bathroom and I almost didn't make it!" 

"It's whatever." Marceline shifted from foot to foot self-consciously. 

"No, it isn't. I'm here for you. I shouldn't have taken so long to make it in there."

"Yeah, thanks for being here to see us. That was awesome!" Marceline shoved her hands in her pockets. "My dad couldn't get off work, so...yeah."

"No, you, singular. Not you plural. The band was great, but I came here to see you sing. And play! I didn't know you could play like that!"

"It's not all that, Bonnie. I just played the song." 

"Oh, you just played, sure. And sang. And had awesome stage presence. That's all. You could get signed with an act like that." Bonnibel looked thoughtful. "You mentioned me being your manager...could that be a serious position?" she asked. 

"I mean, I'd have to ask the others, but...sure. I don't really know what a group of dorks goofing around with instruments need a manager for. What does a manager do, anyway?"

"Paperwork, bookings, organization," Bonnibel listed off, ticking them off on each finger. "Administrative stuff. I'm totally qualified, my work with the student council and chemistry club both rely on my ability to organize and strategize, and I-"

"Bonnie. Stop. I don't care if you're qualified. That sounds good. I'll talk to the others." She hesitated a moment. "Are you doing anything tonight?" she asked. 

"Not really. I was going to do some recategorizing in the chemistry storage room, but I could...not..." 

"Don't. The guys and I are going out for ice cream. Come with?" 

"I'll call my mom. 

"Well hurry up. We don't have all night, I have to be home by curfew. Oh, and Bon?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks."

Bonnibel shook her head and smiled. "Any time."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate being that person who disses their own writing, but this ending leaves a bit to be desired. Possible continuation in the works? Love y'all!


End file.
